


What I Know

by Jo_busch_got_booty



Category: Attack on Titan, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, aot, snk - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-27
Updated: 2015-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-19 23:03:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3627594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jo_busch_got_booty/pseuds/Jo_busch_got_booty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are so many things Jean knows, and some that he cannot remember</p>
            </blockquote>





	What I Know

I can't quite remember what his smile looked like. I know there was always a hint of humor to it, I know that it was almost always followed by a faint, hesitant chuckle, as if maybe he weren't quite sure what he was talking about. Sometimes, I wondered myself. Sometimes I imagine he's smiling into my neck, laughing, maybe, or pretending to blow his nose into the collar of my shirt. There's never a time I don't miss that, never a time I don't miss him. 

The scrapbook is spread out across the coffee table, open, but untouched. When Sasha walks down the steps, her arms wrapped gently around her abdomen, I know I'll be the first thing she sees. I know her face will drop, that she'll consider each word she's going to say carefully before coming over to talk to me. I know she doesn't really know what to say:

"You still miss him, huh?" "Jean, it's been three years." "I'm sorry I can't help you more."

When she does show up, it's not as quiet an entrance as I expected, not as quiet as usual. She can't help the look of disappointment that crosses her face, and I know she doesn't intend for it to make me feel guilty, but it does. What she says manages to surprise me,

"I'm sorry, Jean." And I feel my heart drop.

I know she isn't saying she's sorry about my loss, I know that she isn't saying she's sorry for interrupting my silent brooding, I know what she is sorry, and yet still I insist, "You have nothing to be sorry for, Sash." I know she knows it's not true.

She sits down beside me, watching my face wordlessly for what seems like an eternity. I do not take my eyes off of the photographs, kisses on cheeks, his beautiful, perfect face. I count the freckles, gliding down his cheeks, wrapping around his neck, down his back. I remember where every single freckle is, I count them as I try to fall asleep, but I cannot, for the life of me, remember his smile.

The photographs don't help. I know that they should. I know that I should be able to look at every single picture and remember the date, the event, what exactly we were laughing about, but I don't. The memories we were making were not precious enough at the moment. They had drowned each other out, and I still don't know why we were grinning like we had discovered god. Maybe it was the beer in our hands, but I know it ws because, at that moment, I thought we had more time to make more memorable moments. I thought, at that time, we would both make it home. I didn't know, at that moment, that he would be gone forever, and that it would be my fault. 

I know that I should have listened to Mikasa when she told me not to drive, I know I shouldn't have stolen my keys back from Annie I know--

"I'm sorry I'm not good enough, Jean." Sasha's voice was broken in my ear, and I closed my eyes. "I'm sorry I'm not him."

**Author's Note:**

> Yoo I used that "Write or Die" program for this. It worked fairly well, actually.


End file.
